


Where It All Falls

by Lyviel



Series: Inquisitor Elden [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apocalypse, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5760781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyviel/pseuds/Lyviel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Corypheus had been defeated but the inhabitants of Skyhold weren't given long to enjoy their victory. Rifts are opening up across Thedas again but this time the Inquisitor's attempt to close them backfires. Elden and Dorian are sent to a grim future they may not be able to escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, I've been worryin' that my time is a little unclear  
> I've been worryin' that I'm losing the ones I hold dear  
> I've been worryin' that we all live our lives in the confines of fear  
> -The Fear by Ben Howard
> 
> A ton of thanks to my beta 100indecisions because she helped me a lot with this fic. Thanks for everything

Home was something Dorian had been contemplating quite a bit lately. He still called Tevinter his home. After all, it allowed him to smugly turn his nose up at the southern barbarians and their terrible weather. Really, though, Tevinter hadn't felt like home in a very long time. The nostalgia was still there, and he still cared about it a great deal and wanted to make it better, but Skyhold had become something he had never had before, something he had never dared hope to find. He wasn't a pariah any longer, he didn't have to hide who he truly was, and he had friends. And he had found love. He wasn't sure what home was anymore. A place one belonged? The place one was from? Could one have both, or was he just asking for too much?

Sitting in the tavern watching the Iron Bull and Cassandra arm wrestle, he couldn’t help but smile. Such thoughts could be entertained later. He was always good at indulging while ignoring the worries at hand. He was going to enjoy this peaceful happiness while he could. _Well, maybe not exactly peaceful_ , he mused as Cassandra slammed Iron Bull’s arm down so hard it cracked the table and the entire tavern cheered (Dorian joined in, of course). It was getting late, however, and there was somewhere he needed to be, so when Varric offered to buy him another round he turned him down for what must have been the first time. Varric gave him a knowing grin, no doubt guessing where he was off to, and Dorian fixed him with a mock glare as he headed out into the cool night.

-

Dorian stood in the doorway watching the Inquisitor and his advisers in the war room as they worked. When Elden had failed to show in his quarters, Dorian knew he would find him here. They were supposed to have finished some time ago, but of course it had gone on longer than expected. Even from here Dorian could see the dark circles under Elden’s eyes and the way he stooped slightly, leaning against the table. He looked exhausted, and no wonder given the state of the map. It looked like everyone across Thedas wanted something from him, and the end result made the table look more like a pincushion.

Apparently Dorian would have to resort to kidnapping the Inquisitor if he was going to get him away from work anytime soon. He was considering barging in and doing so now but lucky for them they seemed to be wrapping things up. Elden stayed behind as his advisors filed out past Dorian. Cullen smiled a friendly greeting, Harding grinned outright, and Josephine mouthed ‘sorry’ as she hurried past.

Dorian stayed where he was a moment longer simply admiring the Inquisitor as he stood with his back to him reviewing the map. He couldn’t help but marvel at the happiness he had found here and he was filled with such a rush of affection for this man. Of _love_.

Dorian had always thought love was something huge, something so earth-shattering that to admit to it would destroy him. Instead it had come to him gradually. When he finally gave voice to everything he felt for Elden, it just made sense. It was warm and easy and familiar and it didn't break him apart but instead built him up. This was what it was supposed to be like, he realized. Not the torturous despair and anxiety of the relationships he had had before, trying to make something out of a one-sided affair, always afraid at any moment the other man would get bored and walk away. This simply fit and made complete sense. This was something comfortable. It was two men rearranging their lives to accommodate the other equally, supporting on the bad days, celebrating on the good, and simply content to exist together. When he realized it was love, it didn’t change anything because it had already been true for some time. For once it was safe for him to simply let it have a name because there was no question that Elden loved him too.

“Are you planning to spend all your nights in here, then?” Dorian asked, leaning on the doorframe.

Startled, Elden turned around. “Oh, Dorian, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were waiting up for me.”

“Must I compete with your advisors? Next time should I pose in the corner with a bottle of wine?” Dorian asked as he approached, eyebrow raised.

“You never need to compete for me, love,” Elden said, taking Dorian’s hands in his and pulling him close.

“You are painfully sappy this evening, amatus,” Dorian said, pulling a face.

Elden chuckled. “You were the one who came looking for me. Did I miss dinner?”

“Yes, and after all the work I did bribing a servant to set it all up for us.”

“How romantic. You know, if you actually gave me a hint that I was supposed to be somewhere I might have actually tried to be on time.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise, then, would it? Really, if you aren’t going to play along I’ll just eat it all myself.”

“What if I said I’d make it up to you?” Elden asked, leaning closer.

“Now you’re talking.” Dorian kissed him, but broke it off much too quickly. He had a plan, after all, even though he very much would have liked to continue that particular activity. “You must be starving,” he said, taking Elden’s hand and leading him out of the room. “Lucky for you I can reheat anything that’s gone cold. After all the work the servants put into it, it would be a shame to waste it.”

At this late hour there was no one out in the great hall as they hurried up to Elden’s quarters. Inside Elden paused at the top of the stairs as he surveyed the setup. He turned quickly, taking Dorian by surprise, and wrapped his arms around him again.

 “It’s wonderful. _You’re_ wonderful,” Elden said, kissing Dorian again.

“My, you really are sappy tonight,” Dorian said, a bit stunned by the sudden kiss. “All I did was provide the bribery. I’d hate to see how you plan on thanking the servants actually responsible.”

Elden smiled radiantly at him before pulling away, taking a seat at the table set for two and decorated with roses and candles. Dorian was surprised at how cold it felt without his arms around him. It was silly, of course, how much he enjoyed just being close. All of this had seemed so impossible before, and yet here he was, unable to have enough and actually able to revel in it all now that Corypheus had been defeated.

Dinner was quiet and comfortable, the two of them just sitting and talking about nothing and everything. Dorian found himself staring fondly more often than he would ever admit, but somehow he didn’t mind when it was just Elden. After dinner Elden stood to call someone to clear away the plates, but Dorian didn’t want to wait. He stood and caught his hand, pulled him into a tight embrace and kissed him, never wanting to let him go again, letting the warmth of the embrace overwhelm him, their fingers weaving together.

Suddenly Elden gasped in pain, pulling his left hand free. Startled, Dorian worried he had somehow hurt him, but then the hand pulsed green, something it hadn’t done in a long time. Usually it only acted up around rifts.

“Well, that’s odd,” Elden began, but was cut off when it flared brighter than it ever had, dyeing the room green. Elden cried out and fell to his knees, gripping his wrist tightly. Dorian knelt beside him, arm around his shoulders to support him, but had no idea what to do. He could feel the wild energy of the Anchor, the power of it so much more than Dorian had ever felt from it before. How Elden was managing to keep it under some form of control he had no idea.

“Inquisitor?” Josephine called from the doorway. “What’s—oh my.”

She ran up the steps and crouched with them, but really there was nothing to do as painful as it was to admit. Dorian ached, unable to do anything as the Anchor flared even more brightly and Elden tried to bite back the agony. He simply held Elden tightly, waiting for it to stop. When it finally subsided Dorian realized that others had entered, including Cullen and Harding and others of the inner circle. Dorian cupped Elden’s cheek and pressed his forehead to his as Elden sagged against him trying to catch his breath. When he seemed to have recovered Dorian pulled back and helped him stand.

“Maker, what was that?” Cullen asked.

“Did it cause the earthquake as well?” Josephine asked.

Dorian hadn’t even noticed that the ground had been shaking.

“I think rifts are opening again,” Elden said. His voice was hoarse and he sounded exhausted, Dorian noted with a sinking feeling.

“We won’t know anything until we start getting messages in,” Dorian interrupted. “I recommend contacting Leliana, but until then the Inquisitor needs to rest.”

“I agree,” Cullen began.

“No, I can feel them,” Elden said, gazing out the window. “They must be dealt with now.”

“You can _feel_ them? From this distance?” Dorian said. “This is new and doesn’t exactly bode well.”

Elden led the way back to the war room, still clutching his left arm, Dorian sticking close to his side. Once there Elden stood before the map for a long moment, then looked out the window, then back to the map.

“Something wrong, amatus?” Dorian teased with a grin, just hoping to lighten the mood a little, to see Elden smile again.

“This isn’t a precise thing, you know,” Elden said in mock seriousness, failing to completely suppress the grin tugging at his lips. “It’s not like I’m feeling the precise location on the map. Vague directions and distance aren’t much to go on.”

 Finally he was able to start marking down likely areas. No doubt he would insist on riding out immediately. Taking advantage of the extra time, Dorian rushed out of the room and practically vaulted up the stairs to the library and began pulling out any books he could find that might be useful, toppling already precarious stacks propped up in corners and generally making even more of a mess of his little alcove as he threw everything into a bag.

“Going somewhere?”

Startled, Dorian spun around to see Elden smiling at him. How was a man that large able to move that quietly?

“If you think you’re going to leave me behind—“

“No no, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Elden said, raising a placating hand. “You can take your time. I’m not going to try to leave without you. I’ve still got to go put my armor on and pack, so you may very well finish before me.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Dorian asked seriously.

“What? Yes, of course.”

Dorian reached out and cupped his cheek, drawing close until Elden wrapped his arms around him. That was much better and more reassuring than the simple gesture really should be. “You haven’t been sleeping well lately. And I know whatever that was took a lot out of you. Surely this can wait until the morning.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine, really. One of the rifts opened up near a town in the mountains so I’d rather not save it for the morning. It’s big.” Elden looked out the window, brow furrowed in concentration. “It feels like they are all connected. If we’re lucky, closing this one will take care of the others as well.”

“Much as I admire your optimism,” Dorian said, “when are we ever that lucky?”

Elden sighed. “Good point.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Inquisition couldn’t be everywhere at once, so they sent out messages warning anyone in areas Elden thought rifts might have appeared. Luckily they had forces spread out all over, and chances were high that they would be able to converge on the more dangerous locations with the help of Leliana’s spy network (Dorian supposed he should get used to calling her Divine Victoria now). Since she had disbanded the Circles, any mages not currently part of or seeking shelter under the Inquisition were a bit disorganized, to say the least. Fiona and Vivienne were doing what they could to maintain order but that meant the Inquisition wouldn’t be getting much help from them on this particular adventure, so they split their current forces. Iron Bull and his Chargers functioned on their own anyway, and various others split off to lead other sections of Inquisition troops, so in the end Dorian, Elden, Varric, and Sera were left to lead the main group heading for the biggest rift, the one they hoped was the source of all the others.

As usual the mountains were agonizingly cold, and Dorian pulled his cloak tightly around himself, muttering darkly. He still couldn’t understand why they couldn’t move their headquarters literally anywhere else that wasn’t atop a perpetually frozen mountain. And if the world was going to end again surely it could have the decency to do it somewhere warmer.  Perhaps not in the middle of the night, either. Dorian stopped complaining to himself as his eyes fell on Elden. The man was insufferably optimistic and rarely complained, and really it just made Dorian want to complain enough for the both of them. Except now Dorian wanted to complain about how everyone always wanted Elden to be the one to save the day. Surely someone else could do it for a time and give him a much-needed break.

Luckily the little town was barely a day’s march away, faster thanks to their horses. They arrived around early morning and all of them were completely exhausted. The rift, they learned, had opened up in a nearby mine, but none of the demons had managed to find their way out to attack the village as of yet. The villagers were all too happy to receive the help of the Inquisition and even offered them their own homes once the tiny local inn was full. The mayor, a wizened old woman who seemed to be perpetually smiling, insisted that Elden and his inner circle stay with her.

“That’s quite all right,” Elden said, apparently not wanting to impose. “We brought camping gear and—“

Dorian elbowed him in the side, which would have been more effective if he hadn’t been wearing full armor, but it still did the trick and Elden fell silent, more surprised than anything.

“What he means,” Dorian said, trying to inconspicuously rub his sore elbow, “is that we would be honored to accept your generous offer. The sooner we get some rest, the sooner we can take care of that ominous hole in reality.”

Elden sighed and shot Dorian an exasperated look. “Yes, thank you. We appreciate any help you can give us,” he said to the mayor.

“Nonsense, no trouble!” the old woman said, leading the way.

-

Elden of course wanted to check on everyone and prepare for whatever was to come, but Dorian managed to lock him in one of the rooms the mayor had provided and was in the process of pulling him out of all that armor.

“You are going to sleep for a few hours at _least_ ,” Dorian said sternly. “What are we supposed to do if you pass out while trying to close that rift? Just ask the demons to kindly hold off overrunning the world until you wake up?”

“I’m sure if anyone could charm them into agreeing, it would be you,” Elden said with a laugh.

“But why risk it when instead you can curl up in this nice warm bed with me?”

“So it’s really you that wants to sleep?” Elden asked, smiling.

“Well, it is a convenient side benefit.” Elden allowed himself to be steered over to the bed and he climbed in, Dorian climbing in after him. “Mm, that’s more like it,” Dorian said, pulling the blankets up around them both. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.”

“Glad to help.” Elden chuckled and Dorian could feel it in his chest, pressed against his back like this.

Dorian fell into silence, pondering that. It was true, wasn’t it? Elden was always there to help, no matter what, even when he was about ready to collapse from exhaustion. Sure, Dorian was there to watch his back and make sure he at least tried to get some sleep, but what would happen when it wasn’t enough? Or when Dorian wasn’t there? Dorian sighed and pulled himself closer to Elden, kissing the back of his neck as he found his hand and squeezed it tightly.

Elden turned in Dorian’s arms and brought up his hand to brush across his cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “For all of this.” Dorian did not like how serious he looked. That wouldn’t do at all.

“No need for that,” he replied. “Unless this is your way of confessing to be the one responsible for attempting to end the world yet again. I mean, I can understand if the glory’s getting a bit addicting, but this is getting rather out of hand.”

Elden laughed and pressed a gentle kiss to Dorian’s lips. “I’m glad you’re here. Thank you for everything. I love you.”

“I love you too, amatus, but if you don’t go to sleep I may have to push you out of this bed.  I am determined to squeeze in at least a little rest.”

Elden smiled and kissed him again before tucking his head under Dorian’s chin and wrapping his arms securely around his waist. Dorian held him close, deciding that any worries could wait. Right now Elden was warm and safe against him, and for the moment that was enough.

-

They had only slept for a few hours and Dorian was groggy and irritable as he sat at the Mayor’s table with the others. If they didn’t want to do this in the dark they had to get started soon but he certainly wasn’t going to be happy about it. The bed had been so warm and comfortable and the prospect of going back out in the cold was not a pleasant one. He leaned slightly against Elden as he drank his tea and Elden squeezed his knee sympathetically. Dorian couldn’t help but notice that Elden hadn’t touched his dinner. He was going over the plan of attack with Varric, Sera, and two generals, and Dorian shook himself, trying to pay attention. Essentially half the soldiers would protect the perimeter and the town while Elden lead everyone else into the mine to find the rift.

As they sifted through maps and plans of the mines, Dorian couldn’t help but be amused at their little setup. They were sitting at the mayor’s dinner table while her grandchildren ran about the room playing, no doubt riled up more than usual with all of the commotion. It ruined the grim atmosphere that was usually present during war room meetings. It all seemed so much more relaxed, and honestly, how could everything seem quite so dire with children giggling nearby? Considering Elden kept glancing up and smiling at the children, he seemed to feel the same, which pleased Dorian.

As they finally began to wrap up, Dorian excused himself. He found the mayor’s daughter in the kitchen and thanked her for everything, especially the tea, and by the time he returned Elden was kneeling on the floor helping one of the children, the youngest girl, fix her broken toy horse. Dorian couldn’t help but watch him. Elden was a great commander when he needed to be, but he seemed so much more at ease in moments like these. Dorian couldn’t explain the rush of emotions he felt as he watched, and perhaps now wasn’t the wisest time to indulge. All he knew was that he loved this man so much and he hoped he would be able to see Elden like this more in the future.

Elden glanced up and caught his eye and Dorian grinned at him when he suddenly blushed slightly. But the moment was over and duty was calling. Sera, Varric, and the others were nearly ready to go so Elden excused himself and returned to the room, Dorian close behind.

“You know,” Dorian said as he watched Elden begin strapping on his armor. “You realize there are hundreds of soldiers willing to help you with all that, don’t you? I believe it is customary. Heavy armor isn’t exactly meant to be put on by the wearer alone.”

Elden didn’t object as Dorian began helping him piece it all together. It all looked so heavy and restricting Dorian didn’t know how Elden managed to be as quick as he was on the battlefield. He was about to speak but Elden’s face was grim, shadowed in thought, that he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. As he finished strapping on the last piece, Dorian picked up Elden’s helmet. Before handing it to him, however, he leaned against his chest and kissed him, running his fingers through Elden’s hair.

“We’ll figure this out, amatus,” he said. “That is my specialty, after all. I am very good at figuring things out.”

Elden smiled sadly. “I was hoping everyone would get a bit of a break after everything,” he said, pressing his forehead against Dorian’s. “Maker knows they deserve it.”

“Yes, good, in that case how about we all hop off to some secluded beach while you take care of this, hmm? I’m fairly certain you are the one most in need of a vacation. Instead, how about once this business is taken care of we go somewhere Leliana’s birds can’t find us, just for a few days.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Good. Let’s wrap this up quickly, then. I have a few ideas on how we can entertain ourselves to stave off boredom.”

“With you, nothing could be boring.” Elden’s tone was teasing, but it was more than worth it to see the smile tugging at his lips.

“Of course not. I am an incredibly fascinating man.”

-

Even with the uncertainty of the situation, somehow nothing could feel overwhelming or impossible with Elden. Dorian had witnessed the man perform miracles, stopping the end of the world and saving them all time and time again. It was hard to be apprehensive after all of that. Dorian knew that it must be quite the strain on him, though. He could see it in Elden’s face as he surveyed the soldiers, no doubt praying for the safety of each and every one of them. Surely once they got in there and closed the rift, he would see that this would be a simple thing easily accomplished. Really, traveling all across Thedas to find the rest of the rifts if this didn’t seal all of them would be the bigger pain, but perhaps they could turn it into a bit of a holiday.

As they advanced, the familiar adrenaline kicked in and Dorian couldn’t help but flourish his staff more than usual as they took down a few demons at the cave entrance.  It had been a while since Dorian was on a proper battlefield. The situation had mostly become political since taking care of the world-ending threat so he had almost forgotten how exhilarating it could be, particularly when fighting at Elden’s side. He grinned at Elden, and what could he do but laugh in response as Sera yelled in triumph, leaping past them ready for more?

There was a network of tunnels inside the mine, all stretching deep into the earth. Thanks to a few scouts they were able to eliminate quite a few passages and save time until they finally found the rift in a particularly large cavern. The rift was huge. It wasn’t as big as the hole in the sky had been, obviously, but it was far bigger than the other rifts they had been dealing with. It also looked odd. At times it would be churning as if there were a raging storm within, but the next moment it would be calm and smooth. Something about it was _wrong_ , and Dorian’s excitement turned to nauseating unease as he looked at it.

“Your worship!” One of the generals ran up behind them, breathless. “Darkspawn broke through one of the lower passages. We are holding them off for the moment but we can’t hold them for long!”

“Take the main force there,” Elden instructed. “Hold the path back to the surface and prepare to retreat as soon as this is closed.”

The general saluted and hurried back out.

“Go with her,” Elden said to the others. “I’ll follow as soon as I am done.”

Varric and Sera agreed grudgingly and turned to leave, but Dorian stubbornly stood his ground.

“Don’t even think about it,” Dorian said warningly. He felt suddenly cold, like everything was about to go wrong. Elden was the Inquisitor, of course he could do this, but they _needed_ him, _he_ needed him.  Dorian wasn’t about to risk losing him now.

“Make sure the others get through this,” Elden said, and Dorian’s chest ached.

“No, I’m staying with you,” he said, furious. “You can’t expect me to leave you.”

“I need to know they’re safe. I can’t close the rift if I’m worried about all of them. Please, love.”

“Please don’t do this,” Dorian said, voice hoarse with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” Elden whispered.

“I hate you.”

“I love you too.”

“Please just… come back.”

“I always do.”

 _No, please don’t say it like that. It might not be true this time._ Dorian grabbed Elden’s breastplate and pulled him close, kissing him hard. He never wanted to let go but they could already hear the sound of battle and he had to. His vision blurred but he blinked back the tears and focused on Elden, who was smiling affectionately at him, before he tore his eyes away and all but ran back the way they had come. He was going to rip apart every last one of those darkspawn so he could get back to watching Elden’s back as quickly as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

Dorian wondered what it said about the state of the world that they had encountered darkspawn and demons regularly enough that they were all getting rather good at handling them. He, Varric, and Sera spread out to assist where necessary, and once the soldiers had fallen back into position they were able to stand their ground. As long as the Inquisitor didn’t take too much longer, holding the mineshaft back to the surface should be an easy enough task.

Dorian was preparing to return to Elden to see how he was coming along when a bone-rattling explosion shook the ground beneath them and the tunnel supports groaned alarmingly. If this entire place came down around them Elden would be trapped down here, he realized in horror. Dorian turned to run to Elden’s side but he’d barely taken a step when a shockwave of green energy rushed up the tunnel towards them. He only had a moment to wonder if it had come from the rift when it hit him, throwing him and the soldiers off their feet. Dorian hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from his lungs, but he scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could and sprinted back down the shaft ahead of anyone else, his heart pounding in his chest, the panic threatening to strangle him. What was happening? Was Elden all right? He knew he never should have left him alone.

He was gasping for breath by the time he reached the larger cavern. The rift was still there and something was clearly wrong. It was now a writhing sphere barely held in check by Elden, who was straining against it. He was gripping his left arm, trying to keep it extended against the sparking energy, his face twisted in pain. There was another green sphere around him, partially translucent and growing larger, darkening the more Elden struggled with it. No rift had taken this long to close before and none had reacted this way. Perhaps he needed more power to get it closed? Either way, Elden needed help. Dorian charged into the large green sphere without hesitation, shouting Elden’s name, when another shockwave exploded from the rift and threw Dorian onto his back.

From where he lay, stunned, Dorian could see back the way he had come. Shapes were moving there, even some familiar faces and Inquisition soldiers, appearing briefly, pacing back and forth before vanishing, but they were moving incredibly fast as if their motions were spend up. A haste spell? He hadn’t actually been on the receiving end of one before since he was usually the one casting it and this one was much more powerful. Suddenly there were dark figures, demons and darkspawn swarming around and killing everyone in swift jerky movements before Dorian could even react.

“No!” he cried, scrambling to his feet.

He ran towards them, feeling like he was wading through water, but then the green sphere vanished and Dorian’s movements returned to normal. He stumbled and nearly fell from the sudden change and looked around, confused, but there were no Inquisition soldiers in sight. There were some scattered bones and rusted armor with the Inquisition symbol emblazoned on it, which didn’t bode well. He had no time to contemplate that, however, because there were also darkspawn waiting for him. Still, there were only a handful. Nothing a little magic couldn’t take care of. Dorian had plenty of time to dance back out of their reach as he released a barrage of energy. There was a rhythm to it and he fell into it easily, calling up a spirit of fear to distract whatever was still moving until he could send a nice fireball their way. He had barely broken a sweat as the last one fell.

“Well, that was certainly bracing. I wonder where—“

The words died in his throat as he turned. The rift was still there, unsealed and swirling angrily, and Elden was kneeling on the ground, gripping his left arm tightly, his face pale and twisted in a pained grimace. Dorian ran to him, but he could already see the sickly green light pulsing erratically through the gantlet and crackling up his arm, and Dorian felt like the panic might choke him.

“I’m fine!” Elden said quickly, raising his other hand. Dorian stopped more from surprise than anything else, but the next moment the sparks were subsiding. “See? I’m fine,” Elden said again, but he was still so pale.

“Let me see,” Dorian said anyway, reaching for him as he knelt. He took Elden’s left hand and stripped off his gauntlet and vambrace to examine the Anchor. Unfortunately there was little for him to see. It looked as it always had, and really, Dorian didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. “Well then,” he said after a moment, glancing back up at the rift. “I suppose there’s little we can do here for the moment. We should at least get back to the village. Shall we go see where the others have gotten to?”

“I just need a moment to catch my breath. Go on ahead. Make sure the others are all right, I’ll only slow you down.”

“Nonsense,” Dorian snapped. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Look, it’s stopped,” Elden said. “I’m fine, I only need a moment and then I’ll follow you.”

“Elden,” Dorian began sternly, but then Elden gave him that look like a kicked puppy.

“Please, there isn’t time for this. We should hear the others in the mine still but it’s quiet. And after what we saw while I was trying to close the rift, and—“ Elden glanced over at the remains that had likely been Inquisition soldiers before saying,  “Please, love.”

Dorian sighed. He had to admit that he was equally worried about the others, but the thought of leaving Elden here alone made him uneasy. He was fine now, right? The Anchor had sparked many times before and nothing had happened then either. Besides, they could do with a bit of reconnaissance and Dorian would only be gone a moment. He sighed and placed a kiss on Elden’s forehead.

“Fine,” he said reluctantly. “Now don’t go anywhere without me. I’ll be gone but a moment.”

“Thank you,” Eden said, taking his hand and squeezing it. “Be careful.”

Dorian practically ran out and up through the passage through the mine. He was surprised when he didn’t encounter anyone. If the soldiers had been forced to retreat, then there should have at least been darkspawn milling about. If that wasn’t the case, why had they decided to retreat? Outside wasn’t much different than he remembered, but the heavy blanket of snow was largely undisturbed except for a few stray shambling steps that he very much doubted belonged to any human. He crested a nearby hill to get a better view but there was still no sign of the soldiers. The nearby town was still there, but the buildings were blackened and possibly damaged. He couldn’t tell much else from this distance. Had they been attacked? Either way, it was doubtful he and Elden would find aid there. He was of course concerned about the townspeople, but he couldn’t focus on that at the moment. Elden had to be his priority.

He’d been away from Elden for too long already, so he turned and hurried back, but he couldn’t help feeling annoyed. Why had the Inquisition soldiers retreated? Surely they could have at least kept a scout in the area or left them supplies. It was all rather concerning. It would probably be better to make their own way to Skyhold, but Dorian would certainly give whoever’s idea this was a piece of his mind.

“Miss me, amatus?” Dorian asked as he hurried back into the cave, and then he froze. Elden had tried to follow. He was collapsed on the ground half way across the cavern, gripping his arm tightly. The Anchor sparked violently again and as Elden cried out in pain, Dorian rushed to his side.

“No, stay back!” Elden gasped. “I don’t know if I can control it.”

Dorian completely ignored him and dropped to his knees at his side. His staff slipped from his grasp as he reached out to steady Elden. “No cause to be overdramatic,” he said, taking his left hand to examine it again. There was still frustratingly little for him to see besides the fade-green pulsing under his skin and crackling up his arm. He could feel the energy thrumming through Elden now, but there was nothing he could actually _do_. He had of course tried to study the Anchor before, but no amount of poking and prodding had revealed anything and it was agonizing, particularly when Elden gasped in pain again and there was nothing to do but hold onto him. “It feels stronger.”

“No shit,” Elden said with a breathless chuckle.

 “Well, if you’re still able to talk back I imagine this can’t be all that bad,” Dorian said. Honestly he would have said anything in that moment just to lighten the mood, to make Elden smile, but he couldn’t think. Dorian thought he might be shaking and it was ridiculous. Elden was the one in pain, he should be should be doing everything in his power to stop it and this wasn’t helping. He gripped Elden more tightly, trying to ignore the cold panic coiling in his gut.

“How are the others?” Elden asked.

“Not here,” Dorian said distractedly, not looking up from Elden’s hand. “They must have pulled back. Unfortunately that means we’re on our own. We’ll have to make our own way.”

“Pulled back? What happened? Are there more darkspawn out there?”

“A few, but I’m afraid I don’t have any more information. We’ll have to see for ourselves. Come on, there’s little we can do here. Let’s get you out of here.”

“I’m sorry, Dorian,” Elden said, and the weight of his words knocked the air from Dorian’s lungs. “I won’t make it.”

“Stop,” Dorian said, his voice hoarse with suppressed emotion. “Don’t you dare. We are going to get out of here and you are going to be fine.”

“I won’t make it,” Elden said and he gripped Dorian’s robes tightly like he couldn’t stay up without the support. “I can’t control it any longer.”

Dorian held him upright, wrapping his arms around him as he pressed their foreheads together. “Tell me what I can do,” he said desperately.

He wished, not for the first time, that he had any talent for spirit magic. Not that any healer had managed to learn anything about the mark either. As if on cue, the anchor sparked violently again and Elden all but collapsed into Dorian’s arms with a cry of pain. Dorian lowered him to the ground and ran his fingers through Elden’s hair, whispering that everything was going to be fine because it had to be, but he felt so lost, so sickeningly helpless. Magic was supposed to be his specialty. What was the point of all of his knowledge, all of his esteemed education, if he couldn’t save this one man?

“Perhaps I could carry you out,” Dorian said desperately, grasping at anything that could possibly _help_ because he had to try something.

 “Dorian,” Elden interrupted him with an assured finality that broke Dorian’s heart in his chest, if the pain was any indication. “I’m dying.”

“ _No_ ,” Dorian snapped, refusing to listen. He felt like he was falling. He couldn’t lose him _he couldn’t._ “If I can just—“

He hadn’t even realized there were tears streaming down his face until Elden reached up and wiped them away. Elden pulled him close and ran a hand through his hair to soothe him, and Dorian hated himself. He should be the one comforting Elden.

“It’s okay,” Elden whispered into his ear more calmly than he had any right to be.

“ _Kaffas,_ it damn well isn’t!” Dorian snapped, pulling away slightly. “I can’t lose you, I _won’t_.”

“Whatever happens, know that I love you. So much.”

“Stop, I can’t—“

“Yes you can. You are brave and strong and much more than I ever was.”

“I’m not letting you die!”

“Dorian, I can feel it. It’s tearing me apart,” Elden said, and had to pause to catch his breath. “I’ve lived with it long enough to know it can’t be stopped, and I won’t let it take you too. You need to leave before it’s too late. If it explodes like at the Conclave—”

“No! I refused to lose you to this thing!” The ferocity in his voice startled both of them. “I won’t let this happen,” he breathed, eyes closed in concentration as he buried his face in Elden’s hair. Dorian wasn’t going to accept this so easily. He took a deep breath, his mind racing, grasping at anything he had ever learned that could be of use. “If I can utilize the Anchor and the natural time-altering effects of this rift I should be able to create a sort of stasis with time magic so it can’t spread anymore. Keep you alive until I can figure out how to stop it. I just need you to release a little of the Anchor’s power while I cast the spell.”

He had studied the rifts enough that if he combined it with what he had learned studying under Alexius it should work, but of course this was all just theory. He had seen the rifts that were only partially open, a crystalline substance preventing anything from passing through but that needed to be removed before Elden could properly seal the rift. In theory it should be similar and the added bonus was that the rift beside them wouldn’t spit out all manner of demons until they could deal with it.

“Is it dangerous for you?” Elden asked, because of course he was worried about Dorian getting hurt while he was _dying._ “And if it takes too long—”

“Completely harmless, and very quick,” Dorian said, even though he honestly had no idea. Why hadn’t he thought to try combining his magic with the Anchor before? If only he had experimented before, then at least he might have a better idea of if this would even work. Oh, right, because it was incredibly foolish. Dorian was willing to risk it now, though, if there was a chance. He'd risk anything.

“You truly are amazing,” Elden said with a smile. Maker, this man was going to be the death of him.

 “Of course I am. Now, I suppose you’ll just have to take that long-deserved rest you’ve been planning on taking.”

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. At least you’re here, that was something I had been counting on.”

“I’ll be gone for just a moment and I’ll be here when you wake up. Just don’t go anywhere in the meantime.”

Elden smiled at him as he reached up to caress his cheek. “I love you. Just—whatever happens, be safe.”

Dorian brushed Elden’s hair out of his eyes and leaned down to kiss his forehead. He took a deep breath and reluctantly pulled away. He said a silent prayer to the Maker or anyone else who might be listening and let his magic flow. It swirled around Elden and Dorian actually had to scoot back to get out of the way. That would be awkward if he got himself or a body part trapped in the spell. After a moment he nodded to Elden.

“Go ahead,” he said. “But be careful. Only a little.”

Elden winced as he raised his hand. The Anchor was crackling again and it was obvious Elden was barely keeping it under control. Dorian’s heart ached as he watched him, but he couldn’t think about that right now. It took him a moment to find some sort of rhythm, weaving his magic in and guiding the energy of the Anchor where he needed it to go. It was best not to force magic to do anything it wasn’t predisposed to do or there could be nasty consequences. He closed his eyes to concentrate, slowly getting the magic to swirl together. Then he slowly brought the rift into play. It was much more difficult juggling all three, but soon enough he got hem working together. Once satisfied, he released a burst of his own time magic and— there. It was done. He kept his eyes closed for a moment longer but when he finally had the courage to look, the spell was complete and, surprisingly, they both hadn’t exploded. It encased Elden and the rift in a green crystal but at least his expression was frozen in one of peace. Small favors and all that rot.

“Don’t worry, amatus, I’ll have this all sorted in short order. You’re lucky I’m here to figure this all out for you.” He wasn’t sure if he was attempting to reassure himself or Elden. Well, Elden couldn’t exactly hear him, but that was beside the point.

Dorian just stared at him for a long moment, wondering what Elden was feeling, if anything, and if he would be all right. Dorian really wasn’t sure how long the spell would last and while he assumed he would only be gone for a few hours at most, there was always the chance that more was going on than was apparent. Suddenly he felt terrified. Elden was the one who was always saving them all. Dorian wasn’t sure he could do this without him. The most heroic thing Dorian had done so far was run away to the south in order to help stop the Venatori. All of his actions up until this point had been motivated by selfishness. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to do anything heroic but, Maker, he would try if it meant saving Elden. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve Elden, but he knew he couldn’t lose him now.

Affection and concern and fear washed over him and he wavered. No, breaking down now wouldn’t help the Inquisitor. The world needed him, _Dorian_ needed him and he would find some way to save him no matter the cost. He wouldn’t let him go without a fight. Dorian just had to focus on the problem at hand. Throwing himself into research instead of facing his emotions was what he was good at, after all.

Looking at the information he had was the first step. Time travel was a likely cause for the accelerated movement he had seen while inside the anomaly caused by the rift, although it was a completely different method than what he and Elden had experienced before. Still, it might be reversible just the same. Without Alexius’ amulet and research it would be harder, perhaps even impossible for some, but surely for Dorian’s genius it would be a mere inconvenience. (It _would_. The alternative was not worth considering.) The real question was how much time had gone by and why the Inquisition had pulled out of the mine. It seemed like protecting the Inquisitor should be high up on their list of priorities. Perhaps things had gotten particularly bad, and that wasn’t an encouraging thought.

Neither was it a helpful line of inquiry so he turned his attention back to the cave itself. It was unremarkable except for the bones and rusted armor of Inquisition soldiers long since killed here. He stood to search and nearly collapsed again, exhausted from the prolonged use of magic, but he couldn’t stop now. He forced himself to stand. Unfortunately after a brief search he was forced to admit that there wasn’t anything useful in the area. Well, that was a fruitless endeavor. He sighed. Unfortunately there wasn’t much else for him to do without his books. He thought about setting out for the town or Skyhold immediately but he wasn’t sure he’d make it. He’d be losing daylight soon anyway so he might as well stay the night and give in to the exhaustion pulling at his limbs. He cast a barrier over the entrance to keep out any shambling dead just in case and did what he could to warm the air within, using the last of his magic, before returning to Elden.

 He ran a hand lightly over the surface surrounding Elden. “It seems you’re stuck with me for a bit longer.”

He curled up nearby, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible as he wrapped his cloak up around himself. His eyes inevitably returned to Elden and he sighed. He was already missing him, his voice, his arms around him, everything. He was alive, though, and that was a start. After all Elden had done for Thedas, putting the wellbeing of everyone else above his own, Dorian wouldn’t let this be his fate. He would find a way to save him.

“I hope you’re warm in there,” he said. “Because it is freezing out here. And I’m sleeping on rocks. This is unacceptable. Once this is all over I demand you take me somewhere with warm beds and expensive wine. You have a lot to make up for.”

Dorian positioned himself so that he could see both Elden and the exit if he opened his eyes, and let himself drift into a restless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Dorian woke up cold, sore, and angry, wondering why in Andraste’s name he had fallen asleep with a rock digging into his side. He sat up stiffly, looking around in confusion, until his eyes fell on Elden and he remembered, heart twisting at the sight of the man he loved still frozen in stasis. Dorian moved to sit beside him, running a hand over the surface again, wishing he could touch him one last time, hold him in his arms and know everything was going to be all right. He took a deep breath, trying to hold back the swell of emotions and focus on the task at hand. As much as he wanted to, staying here wouldn’t help Elden. The sooner he left, the sooner he could return to his side. 

“I’m sorry, amatus,” he said aloud after a moment, looking away as his stomach turned unpleasantly with nerves. He couldn’t think about the what-if’s or the possibilities that the magic could fail or that Elden could still be in pain, slowly dying within. All he could do was focus on getting all this sorted before any of that could happen. “I know, I know, you can’t bear to be apart from me, but I simply must go. As much as it pains me to admit it, I do require my notes and possibly a few books if I aim to solve all of this. Really, what would you do without me? I’ll be back in a day or so at most, I’m sure.” He paused for a long moment and finally his eyes returned to the Inquisitor. “I’ll find a way to save you, just… wait for me, please, amatus.”

With a sigh he stood and turned away. He took a deep breath and left the cave, making sure the barrier was secure behind him. It wouldn’t hold back the truly curious, but at least it would keep out most creatures that happened to wander by.

Outside, the sun was just beginning to rise, and he shivered as the cold winter wind bit through his robes. He could see a few more darkspawn and demons loitering about. Drawing attention to himself would not be wise no matter how much he wanted to work his frustrations, out so he skulked past the milling creatures and made his way towards the town. 

The closer he got, the more certain he became that this was an incredibly bad idea. The buildings looked in far worse shape than he had expected, now that he was close enough to see, and there was a very good possibility that it was inhabited by more darkspawn. Just how bad had things gotten if the Inquisition had let this happen so close to Skyhold? Yes, there were other ways to get there, but the entire reason this town had sprung into being was because it was placed so conveniently along a well-traveled path that led to their front door. He hoped it was just that this attack had happened too recently for them to respond, not something worse. Even if whatever had happened with the rift had thrown them forward in time, the threat at hand, namely Corypheus, had already been defeated. What could be occupying the Inquisition so thoroughly that this wasn’t a priority?

No, he couldn’t think about that. And he had to keep going no matter how bad it looked. If there was a chance anyone was alive down there, or even if there were supplies he could use, it was worth a shot. Besides, he couldn’t help but think of the mayor and her family as well as the others that had welcomed them. He told himself that if they had any sense they would have long since evacuated, but he had to be sure.

Dorian picked his way through the ruined village, but most of the buildings were burned-out husks that looked as though they could collapse at any moment. There was no way anyone was still living here. Dorian wouldn’t even be able to find adequate shelter for the night, let alone supplies. Still, he couldn’t help but keep going further into the small town just in case. Perhaps there might be a hint as to what was happening. He decided to stop pushing his luck when a rift opened up across the main square within eyesight. That wasn’t a good sign. Skyhold it was, then. Without a horse he wouldn’t arrive for a day or two depending on how quickly he moved. Hopefully his return trip would prove more expeditious, and with luck he wouldn’t be alone. 

_Hold on, Elden. Just a little longer._

It was odd. Where there had been a decent enough road leading to Skyhold, now there was nothing but a smooth plane of snow, unmarred by footprints or wagon wheels. Even if he was some undetermined amount of time in the future, that didn’t explain why this once well-used road had been left to be reclaimed by the elements. Maybe there had been a snowstorm recently, he thought desperately. Although that didn’t explain why the town had been left destroyed. He decided not to think about that right now, however, and instead stared glumly at the snow-covered terrain. Maker, but he hated the stuff. When this was all over he definitely wanted to spend time somewhere he didn’t have to look at it. 

Trudging through the snow was truly miserable. Each step broke through the crust and he sank in up to his knees, forcing him to wrench the other foot free and repeat the process. It was exhausting. Barely an hour later saw him gasping for breath that burned his lungs with the cold. He had made painfully little progress as well. He definitely needed a better plan. Taking a deep breath, he released a little ice magic, just enough to harden the surface, strengthening the crust. Cautiously he stepped up and sighed in relief when it held his weight. Thank the Maker. Of course, this meant he would have to use magic all the way up to Skyhold. Not exactly the most efficient mode of travel, but hopefully it would be slightly less exhausting.

-

Despite trying to conserve as much magic as possible, Dorian was beginning to feel the strain as the sun began its descent. He also hadn’t eaten since the day before (a day and however many months or even years had truly passed, that is) and he’d have to do something about that soon. Lucky for him he was still below the tree line and it wasn’t so cold that all of the plants had died off. He found a pleasant little clearing protected by a cluster of close-growing trees and sighed in relief that he could actually see the ground here.

He knelt down next to a plant he thought might be edible and picked it, but then he hesitated, simply crouching there and staring at it. He was trying to recall the mnemonic Elden had used as an easy way to tell if the one with the little ridges on the leaves was the edible one or the one that would kill you in interesting and painful ways if ingested. At the time Dorian hadn't really been listening because the Inquisitor really did look stunning in his new armor, even if the effect was ruined a bit by him crouching in the dirt picking plants. It was endearing though. Besides, Dorian hadn’t exactly thought it necessary to remember, since winding up lost in the woods without Elden wasn’t something he had planned on doing.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Dorian’s attention. Prepared for darkspawn he leapt to his feet, staff at the ready, in time to see a nug vanish around a tree. Ah, that would do nicely and he wouldn’t have to risk getting poisoned after all. Apparently luck was smiling on him which, really, it was about time. He dropped the plant and followed after the animal, staff at the ready.

He remembered Blackwall going on at length about traps and snares and whatnot, but Dorian hadn’t been paying attention to that either. Surely, for someone as skilled as himself, it wouldn’t be too difficult to catch something. He tried not to think of his first venture to the south and his failed attempts at catching his own food. Luckily his aim had much improved.

He found the nug with its brethren and, very cautiously, he approached. Of course they heard him immediately and scattered. Cursing, he tried to give chase, flailing out with his staff and hoping to catch one of them a blow, but they were much too fast. One ran right under him and he spun around too quickly and slipped, falling face-first in the snow. From his vantage point on the ground he saw one of the blighted creatures eating the plant he had discarded earlier. 

_You want to play it that way? Fine._

In one swift movement he leapt to his feet and with a flourish sent a fireball at the thing. It squeaked as it was hit and knocked back several feet where it lay, unmoving. Dorian approached the remains and poked at it gingerly. It looked a little overdone. Well, no, that was understating the matter significantly; it looked burnt nearly to a crisp. He pulled out his dagger and attempted to dig out any edible meat, but finally he grimaced and decided that maybe he would just stick to plants after all from now on. The nug’s meat was messy and unpleasant and wasn’t exactly satisfying when he finally did eat it, charred and overdone as it was. At least he had something in his stomach now. As great as it was, magic wasn’t exactly the best thing to use for hunting, he supposed. At least fire wasn’t. What about ice or lightning? Hopefully he wouldn’t have much more need to experiment. 

As the sun began to set, he decided it was time to set up camp. He felt on firmer ground where this was concerned, at least, and in fact he was getting rather good at it. He couldn’t help but feel proud even if it was a skill he had never particularly wanted to learn. He liked to think he had taught most of it to himself during those long nights alone in the Hinterlands before joining the Inquisition. On reflection, he really wasn’t quite sure how he survived all that, and it was thanks to Elden and the inner circle that he knew as much as he did. 

There was plenty of wood to be had and in a moment he had a cheery fire burning (although his magic did make it feel a bit like cheating). He huddled close and shut his eyes, the smell of the smoke reminding him of nights spent out on the road. They weren’t exactly pleasant since he was almost always cold and miserable, missing the library and a proper bed. Still, they made him smile as he remembered friends. And Elden. It felt wrong, not having him close at hand. 

He didn’t want to think about him, however, as cruel as that felt. He didn’t want to think about how much he missed him and how worried he was now that Elden was out of his sight. He told himself that it would all be fine, that tomorrow he would get to Skyhold and then he’d be able to return to Elden and everything would be all right. He pulled his robes more tightly around himself to keep the cold at bay, as futile as the gesture was, and hoped sleep would come soon. He tried to focus on anything else, like the stars or the crackling of the fire, but it hardly distracted him from the disturbing lack of Elden’s arms around him. What he wouldn’t give for a bottle of whiskey.

-

Dorian jerked awake, cold and miserable, before the sun had even risen. He had barely slept at all, the cold keeping him tossing and turning no matter how close to the fire he lay. Of course, now that his fire had burned down it would be a better idea to start walking than try to get it burning again. The movement should warm him up enough to prevent him freezing to death, but he summoned up a little heat anyway. He vaguely recalled a dream he had had at some point in the night involving Elden where they had been warm and safe and happy, and Dorian pulled his robes more tightly around himself as he continued his journey, letting the memory of it spur him on. 

-

The sun was beginning its descent as Dorian neared the mountain pass. He couldn’t help but speed up despite his exhaustion. He hadn’t even realized how anxious he was to get home and see everyone again. Sure, he would probably be leaving again immediately, but to see them, to know that they were safe, would at least lay to rest the worries he had tried to keep in the back of his mind that the lack of footprints in the snow or the lack of scouts in the area had instilled in him. Then they could all go rescue their fearless leader. Besides, he told himself, even if it was abandoned for some reason, the sooner he could grab what he needed and get back to Elden, the sooner they could get back to their own time and make sure none of this ever happened. 

The snow was still deep and the uphill struggle left him gasping for air but he pushed on. Finally he crested the hill and Skyhold came into view—and he froze in his tracks. 

Skyhold was completely destroyed. Only jagged spires of stone remained, red lyrium ripping out of it like claws. Dorian just stared at it for a long moment, trying to smother the horror at seeing this place, his _home_ , brought to such a state, but he failed, and hopelessness set in.


	5. Chapter 5

In retrospect, Dorian supposed he really should have seen this coming. He knew he and Elden were likely sometime in the future. Dorian knew time magic had to be a factor after seeing the seemingly accelerated movements of those outside the rift’s effects.  Sure, if the nearby town had been attacked it wouldn’t take the inhabitants long to run for the hills if they weren’t all killed. Then it would only take a particularly heavy snowstorm to cover the evidence as well as the path to Skyhold. That could have all happened in a day or so. But that couldn’t explain the lack of scouts or Inquisition soldiers or literally anyone else on the road.

Obviously more had already happened than he was aware, so it only made sense to assume they were more than a few days in the future. Much more. It shouldn’t surprise Dorian, but it still knocked the breath from his lungs as he stared at the remains of Skyhold, the supposedly impenetrable fortress reduced to ruins and overtaken by corruption.  His legs nearly gave out and he wavered. He couldn’t think of all his friends, about the fate they most likely met, about the fate that could await Elden if he didn’t find something, _anything,_ to save him.

Dorian shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He knew he should leave immediately. If red lyrium had taken root it was never a good idea to stick around, but he had to. If there was even a chance he could find something useful or even something that would give him a direction to turn next, he had to search the ruins. A part of him wanted to see it up close as well, as if somehow that might change what he saw.

He kept moving forward, heading across the crumbling bridge to what remained of Skyhold. There wasn’t even a gate anymore. He entered the ruined courtyard and looked around, the hopelessness of the situation threatening to crush him. The buildings weren’t even recognizable anymore. They were just huge piles of rubble, spires of jagged stone here and there the only thing left standing and through it all red lyrium had spread like a disease as if it had burst through from deep within. He staggered, shocked and overwhelmed, and leaned heavily on what had once been the wall that had protected them all for so long. This place should have been nearly indestructible even if the walls had been breached. It would have taken considerable force to reduce it to _this_. What had happened to the others? Were any of them even still alive? Could they have survived this? This couldn’t be happening.

He reminded himself that, technically, it wasn’t. If he could just save the Inquisitor, they could go back in time and make sure this never happened. It had worked last time, after all. He shook himself and stood up straight, clinging to that knowledge like a lifeline. He had work to do. He hurried deeper in, digging around in the ruins where he guessed the library had fallen, but failed to find anything except papery ash. Eventually, as the sun was beginning to set, he had to accept it. Nothing useful remained here. This was a dead end.

Logic told him, again, that he should leave quickly. Simply existing near red lyrium was bad enough, especially this much of it—but he was so tired, and a part of him was unwilling to relinquish this place entirely, even ruined as it was. It had been his home, a real home. He had been happier here than he had ever been anywhere else. He stumbled back to the gatehouse. The door was half open, the wood rotting and the hinges rusted, but he managed to squeeze inside and position it to keep out any unwelcome visitors. The room was cold but sheltered and he just hoped this would be far enough away from the red lyrium because he was too tired to go any farther. Besides, he hadn’t seen any places to camp on the way up. This was as good as it was going to get.

Even sheltered from the wind, it was painfully cold, so he scrounged up a meager fire before he all but collapsed beside it, the ache of constant travel over the last two days catching up to him. He curled in on himself miserably, knowing he would most likely spend another night tossing and turning in the cold with very little sleep. He closed his eyes, missing Elden for the hundredth time. No matter how painful it was, how much he didn’t want to think of him, his mind always ended up back with Elden.

-

Dreams are cruel. Dorian had seen all sorts of creative and painful ways for men to die, but somehow his dreams were able to provide even more awful fates that could befall Elden—the spell draining him to a husk, the rift tearing him apart while he lay paralyzed but feeling every second of it, and on and on. Dorian was almost relieved when he was woken by a tremendous thud and the groan of wood. He sat up with a start, swallowing a strangled sob at the realization that it had all been a nightmare. Except for the sound, of course. The door had been ripped off its hinges. A figure clad in full armor kicked the remains away as she charged towards him. Dorian dove for his staff, but she was too fast. She kicked it away in one swift movement and pinned him against the wall with her shield.

“Where is the Inquisitor?” she demanded as she raised her sword to his neck.

Dorian’s mind was running at a sluggish pace from the restless few hours of sleep he gotten and the agonizing headache pounding in his skull, no doubt brought on by proximity to red lyrium. He was about to give the wittiest comeback he could come up with in such a state when he saw the figure entering. Leliana. She looked older and much, much colder, but it was still her. Truth be told she was always a bit off-putting to him, but somehow she was managing to be even more intimidating.

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” Dorian said to her over the other woman’s shoulder.

“What do you mean?” Leliana demanded, her eyes narrowed as she gestured for the soldier to release him.

“Surely the Inquisitor informed you of our last journey into the future? At Redcliffe?”

“Where is the Inquisitor?” she said. Her expression told him she knew what he was talking about but apparently didn’t care to comment on it.

“Still trapped, I’m afraid,” he said, deciding to go with the quickest explanation since her temper seemed to be on the short side. “I don’t suppose you’d enlighten me as to what we’ve missed? I’ve been rather preoccupied, as it were. How long exactly has it been?”

“Seven years.”

“Lovely,” Dorian said, trying not to actually think about that. It didn’t matter; they could go back in time. None of this had to matter. “And what happened in the interim? The short version, if you please.”

Leliana folded her arms. “Rifts kept opening up. Demons and darkspawn attacked in greater numbers than we could handle. Many died. Only a few settlements still exist that I know of. In short, this world is falling apart.”

“So I gathered,” Dorian said. He chose not to ask about the others of the inner circle. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what grisly end they had met. “Fortunately, like before, I may be able to reverse time and prevent all this.” He was careful not to word things how he had the first time they had met in the future. He was fairly certain Elden had been the only thing stopping her from stabbing him outright. This time, however, he was on his own and it wouldn’t do to make her an enemy.  “I will require the aid of a few experienced mages and perhaps a tome or two. I don’t suppose you could provide any?”

“When the demons started appearing, people turned on the mages, blaming them for the state of the world. Vivienne led any left alive to the north. We don’t go there. I don’t know if they are still alive. Any books have been burned. We were too busy saving ourselves to care about them.”

“I suppose that’s as good a lead as any,” Dorian sighed. Of course this wasn’t going to be so easy. He had seen riots before and he tried not to think about what might have happened to the mages Vivienne couldn’t save. Of course, if anyone could survive all this, it would be her. And of course she would have had the presence of mind to secure as many magical notes and tomes as she could. Hopefully there would be something Dorian could use.

“I don’t have anyone I can spare to accompany you,” Leliana said. “Particularly when I doubt your possibility of success.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Leliana nodded to the woman who had attacked Dorian, who still had her sword at the ready just in case. Grudgingly, she put her sword away, then pulled off her pack and threw it at him. It hit him hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs and he nearly dropped it.

“Supplies,” Leliana said. “It won’t get you far. I suggest you learn to hunt properly.”

Right. Of course she or her spies had been watching. He watched them go before sitting down and opening the pack. He hadn’t realized how hungry and thirsty he was until this moment and he nearly drained the water skin immediately. He tried to be a bit more sparing with the dried meat and hardtack. By then the headache was threatening to set in as a proper migraine and he knew he had to get moving.

North. That was vague. Although if all non-mages were afraid to go in that direction at all, chances were good that they patrolled their territory and would find him instead of the other way around. He just needed to worry about one thing at a time. First order of business was getting down the mountain. With a bit of foresight, he snagged the splintered door and hauled it along with him. Once he managed to get out of Skyhold to where the mountain sloped downwards, he set it down and took a look at his options.

He could trudge all the way back down, or he could take a page out of Sera’s book and do something ridiculous. He took a deep breath, made sure his staff and the pack were securely strapped to his back, and sat down on the door. Then he sat there for a good few minutes longer just to let the stupidity of this decision sink in. Maker, he was thankful there was no one around to see this. Very carefully he edged the door forward until gravity did its work.

Sledding down a hill is one thing. Careening down a steep mountain on a flimsy door that was already falling apart was something different entirely. He was able to keep it together for an impressive distance before the wood broke apart and he was sent tumbling—at which point he learned it was surprisingly difficult to stop oneself once the tumbling began, and he simply had to curl up as best he could and wait until he finally came sliding to a stop, sore and bruised but surprisingly in one piece.

He lay there for a long moment, waiting for the world to stop spinning, his face pressed into the cool snow. He’d shaved quite a bit of time off of his journey at least, but perhaps he should stick to sliding down gentler slopes. After a moment he sighed, stood, dusted as much snow off his robes as he could, and began trudging along.

-

As he walked, Dorian kept trying to figure out how long it would take him to get back to Elden. He had never been particularly good at calculating distance or the time required to travel that distance, but that didn’t stop him from guessing. Perhaps if he went around the Frostback Mountains and took whatever was left of the main road back up to the town and the mine? Would that save him some time? He was so absorbed in thought that he almost didn’t hear the voices. He froze and dropped to the ground. It couldn’t have been Leliana’s people. She wouldn’t tolerate this amount of noise.

He crawled to the ridge of a hill to get a better look, trying to ignore the cold of the snow seeping in through his robes. Ah yes, red templars, exactly what was missing from this already hellish journey. Of course they would be one of the groups to thrive in all of this. Dorian could see them camped out below and was unsettled to see that they had cages with them. He thought the Inquisition had put a stop to their operations, but apparently they hadn’t been completely successful. Or there had been some sort of resurgence. If red lyrium had spread to Skyhold, who knows where else it had gotten to. At least the cages were empty.

If he was lucky he would be able to slip away before anyone noticed. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he groaned. A few templars entered the area dragging three men with them. Dorian sighed and pulled out his staff. He couldn’t just leave them like that. Hopefully a surprise attack would allow him the upper hand.

As quickly and quietly as he could, Dorian climbed over the ridge and began running down the incline towards the camp. About halfway down they still hadn’t noticed him so he stopped, slamming his staff into the ground. With an effort of will, he utilized the already frozen terrain and forced jagged spikes of ice to explode around the templars’ feet, holding them in place. Their prisoners scrambled out of the way as the templars began trying to pull themselves free.

 _Amateurs_.

While they were still clustered together Dorian switched to lightning. It arched between the templars, crackling on their armor. The templar that seemed to be the leader, due to the fact that she had a modicum of sense, had already begun chipping at the ice with her sword. As soon as she was free she began sprinting up the hill towards Dorian. Ignoring the other two for now, Dorian sent a well-placed fireball at the templar’s feet. She stumbled slightly, but it didn’t slow her down nearly enough. He erected a wall of ice to hold her off while a handy fear spell scattered her lackeys.

From there Dorian could just take potshots at them, fadestepping whenever they got too close, until they had all fallen. Dorian was just grateful none of them seemed to be as far along corruption-wise as some of the ones he had faced in the past. None of these could shoot bits of lyrium at him and none were giant lyrium-encrusted monstrosities. No, these were just the average super-charged templar. As the final one fell, still smoldering gently, Dorian turned to the prisoners. He was about to assure them that there was no need to thank him but they were still hiding behind the cart.

“Y-you’re a mage!” one of them said, clearly terrified.

“Yes, very good,” Dorian said. “Your observational skills are phenomenal.”

“Stay away! This is all your fault!”

“The fact that you’re free and not being force-fed red lyrium? Yes, I do believe I had something to do with that,” Dorian said lightly.

”No, all of this! First the Blight, now the world is ending because of the arrogance of mages!”

“Well, if you’re going to be like that I think I’ll just leave,” Dorian said.

“Get away from us, _mage!”_ one of them said, chucking a rock at him.

 Dorian dodged the rock easily and raised an eyebrow as he watched it sail past him. Was the man serious? “That isn’t a very original insult, is it? Do try to be more creative next time.”

He turned to go because really, what was the point in trying to reason with them? It had been a while since anyone had thrown something at him or tried to spit on him, he mused. It never felt quite like coming home without it, so he supposed he was overdue. Still, a little gratitude would have been nice.


	6. Chapter 6

Slowly but surely the landscape began to change. Dorian went from trudging downhill through heavy snow to eventually walking across rolling grassy hills with, blessedly, no snow in sight. It was quite a relief, although it was still colder than it had any right to be. The area was beginning to look familiar as well. Granted, all wilderness tended to look the same to him for the most part, but as he found the northward road he vaguely recalled coming this way with the Inquisition before, and if he wasn’t mistaken, there was a river in the vicinity. Good thing too because he’d emptied his waterskin the night before.

He managed to find it easily. It was lying across the path so he was bound to run into it eventually, but even the little victories were important while in the wretched wilderness. He knelt on the bank and filled his waterskin with the cool water and couldn’t help but smile as he recalled early days traveling with Elden. The man tended to spout random survivalist facts as if preparing Dorian for such an occasion as this, so when they found themselves filling their own water skins back then, Elden pointed out the dangers of drinking from stagnant bodies of water. Of course Dorian definitely already knew that and certainly hadn’t discovered it the hard way during his days camping in the Hinterlands shortly before joining up. 

He continued to kneel there lost in thought as he gazed out over the water, fish visible beneath the surface as they flitted about. It was so serene here it was easy to forget about the destruction of this place, of this time. It reminded him of more peaceful days, sitting with Elden on the bank of a river or lake, fishing pole in hand. He shook the memories away, not wanting to address the emotions that came with them, and instead focused on the fishing. He did need to find a way to supplement his rations and he remembered it being pleasant enough, or at least more enjoyable than chasing nugs.  If he could make something vaguely resembling a fishing pole, perhaps he could catch a fish or two. He had been rather good at it, not to brag.

He had to get creative and improvise, using some of the finer leather bindings of his robes for the string and a bit of metal from his staff that he thought would function as a decent hook. Then came the part he was dreading. He began half-heartedly digging in the dirt with the butt of his staff until he unearthed a worm. He simply glared at it for a moment, cursing everything that had brought him to this moment and attempting to will the blighted thing to attach itself to his makeshift hook on its own. That obviously wasn’t working, however, and his stomach was beginning to complain, so he reached out, grabbed the wriggling abomination with thumb and forefinger and, with a grimace, managed to skewer it. He’d feel bad for the thing if he wasn’t busy wanting to retch. With all that business thankfully out of the way he made himself comfortable, tied the the whole mess to the end of his staff and cast the hook into the river.

Unfortunately he had forgotten how incredibly dull fishing was. He was tempted to pull out his notebook and see if he could recreate any of his and Alexius’ research on time travel while he waited, but if his attention was divided he might miss it if a fish came to investigate the worm. He watched the silhouettes of fish beneath the river’s surface hoping to occupy his mind, but he was just so restless. He groaned and shifted. This was a new level of hell. Why had he remembered it fondly the last time he had done this? 

Oh. Elden had been there. 

This was ridiculous. Dorian had been alone before. He had had his rage to keep him company before the Inquisition,  the memory of his father’s betrayal, and the knowledge that he had to stop Alexius. He had rage still, now, and his stubbornness. His jaw tightened and he shifted to get a better grip on the pole. He would catch a fish, find the mages, and return in time to get Elden out of here. Then they could return to their own time to laugh about all this once they were safely back in Skyhold with a bottle of expensive wine. He stared at the string with renewed determination.   
  
Unfortunately, Dorian’s fishing abilities left much to be desired. A few hours went by and he still hadn’t gotten so much as a nibble. He was beginning to grow suspicious, so he lifted his staff enough to raise the hook out of the water just to check only to discover that the worm had either escaped or been stolen some time ago. That was the final straw. Dorian had had quite enough of all of this. 

He pulled the string off of his staff, shoved it and the hook into a pocket and trudged into the shallow water before he began firing off mind blasts in every direction, hoping to stun something, anything. He knew he should be conserving his energy, not wasting his magic in such an impractical and unrestrained way, but the fury, at this situation, at all of the death, and fear and his concern for Elden, had built up for too long. The fish scattered beyond his reach and when he finally stopped, breathing heavily, a single fish surfaced to float lamely before him. He sighed, picked it up before the slow-moving current could wisk it away, and trudged back to shore.    
  


He couldn't decide if the fish or the nug had been less satisfying. Luckily he still had some rations left. As soon as he had finished eating he started walking again. He had a lot of time to make up for. 

-

"I simply do not understand how you southerners handle all this weather everywhere all of the time. Really, we must get you to Tevinter one of these days so you can see how real civilized people live."

Dorian trailed off as he remembered he was alone. He didn't like being alone. Well, that wasn't completely true; he enjoyed solitude and he often isolated himself so that he could be completely absorbed in his research, avoiding fresh air and not speaking to anyone for days on end. Even when he first came to Skyhold the cold reception had been easy enough to ignore. There was always the reassuring bustle of people nearby, the knowledge that he wasn’t completely alone even if he was an outsider. He was good at being an outsider. Besides, the Inquisitor had always been willing to speak to him. This complete lack of any sort of population was unsettling. And the quiet--he was tempted to continue speaking just so there was something to hear in the emptiness of the wilderness.

Now that he thought about it, it was even more than that now. For some time now Elden's presence had become a constant, something he could always count on no matter what they went through. Even if they were simply sitting in silence, they were still together. Dorian had missed a great many things in his life, but this was different. Dorian wasn’t exactly fond of introspection but right now there wasn’t much else occupying his thoughts. It was an ever-present ache that he was sure would never leave until he was with Elden again. It was as if a part of Dorian himself was missing. Being with Elden had allowed Dorian to be more himself in return, and he didn't want to do any of this without him. Now that he had found this man, he couldn't just let him go, and he couldn’t bear the thought of him dying. 

-

Dorian wasn’t exactly surprised when he came across the corpses, although that did nothing to ease the queasy feeling in his gut at seeing more death. Any usable supplies had long since been destroyed or buried by the passage of time, leaving nothing much to see other than bodies that he guessed were roughly a year dead. A stick poking out of the ground caught his eye, however, and, thankful for the distraction, he prodded it with his foot and realized it was a staff. That was a bit odd. He hadn’t seen any mages thus far. Wasn’t this supposed to be their territory?

He crouched down, digging through the debris, hoping to uncover something that might help him discover what had transpired here. He had of course been warned that mages often attacked anyone on sight, so it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise if one had died during such an attack, but if there were more mages than not it would be a bit worrying.

He leaned on his own staff as he knelt down, sifting through the dirt with his free hand. The shifting of gravel behind him caused his tense reflexes to jump into action. He leapt to his feet, twisting to bring his staff up defensively, barely bringing it up in time to block a swipe of claws.  _ Abominations. Of course,  _ he thought wearily.  __ Not that Dorian could really blame the mages. Not exactly his first choice, but he could understand the sentiment of wanting to take as many enemies down with him as possible. Blood magic would be more his style in that sort of situation, he thought, even if it would be murder on his robes. Besides, in a dire situation that would require such drastic measures, there would surely be enough of his own blood readily available and already staining his robes. 

His mind was wandering again, trying not to think about the desperation and fear those mages must have gone through to resort to this. The abominations were easy enough to dispatch, at least, with only three to deal with. Once that was taken care of, he returned to digging. He grimaced as he was forced to pull what had once been a pack out from underneath a body. He felt guilty, disturbing them when he didn’t even plan to give them a proper burial, but he kept telling himself that stopping all of this from happening would be the best way to make amends. Of course the pack’s contents were completely rotted and useless. He avoided disturbing any other bodies and in the end he had unearthed upwards of ten staves when he finally gave up. There were a total of twelve corpses.

Despite the concerningly large number, it was doubtful that these were the particular mages he was looking for. If that had been the case there surely would have been many more. Had this been a group of mages seeking aid from Vivienne’s group just as he was? If that was the case, no doubt he could be at risk as well. But from who?  Then again, there were plenty of possible suspects, Dorian supposed. Demons, darkspawn, red templars, and the list went on. 

It was useless to speculate, however, and he had wasted enough time, so he continued on. The sun was beginning its descent and he would need to set up camp soon, but he just wanted to get as far from here as possible. There was just so much death here, and he felt so useless. It was doubtful there had ever been any chance of him arriving in time to aid them, but he couldn’t help but feel like any of the others would have done a better job. He wasn’t usually the sort to save anyone. That was usually Elden.

Elden was the one who overcame impossible odds and achieved miracles, not him. Dorian still planned to return home to Tevinter, to change things, to save it, conveniently proving at the same time that he really could make a difference. But the fact remained that he still hadn’t done any of it. He hadn’t done anything because staying at Skyhold was easier. As usual, he stuck with his usual policy that he couldn't fail if he never even tried. It had served him well for most of his life.

And now everything rested on his shoulders anyway. What if he couldn’t save Elden? What if he was trapped here in this awful future forever? Maker, he really was alone, wasn’t he? Honestly, Dorian would have given anything to see any of the inner circle again, even Blackwall. He  missed every blighted one of them so much it hurt. 

But he missed Elden most of all. He missed his steady hand in his, the calmness of his voice, his kind smile. He missed the sound of a whetstone being drawn over a blade, or polish gliding over metal armor. It made Dorian's chest ache to remember these things and know it was all beyond his reach. He just wanted to get this all over with and return to Elden’s side. Failing just wasn’t a possibility.

Dorian didn’t stop walking until the remains of the camp were out of sight, hidden behind a hill. Only then did he finally give in to the weariness in his limbs. His own camp was rather rushed, his fire haphazardly built up, and he immediately curled close, cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He didn’t want to think about death anymore, about desperation, abominations and blood magic. He just wanted to think about Elden no matter the ache it left in his chest. He couldn’t help but think of Elden’s hands, calloused and rough but gentle and so warm when wrapped around his own. He couldn't help but think of his strength and determination. Elden could, and did, stand against overwhelming odds, facing down certain death and somehow always making success look possible, even when standing alone against an archdemon and a darkspawn magister. 

But at the same time this mountain of a man managed to be the kindest and gentlest man he had ever met. Maker, Dorian missed him. Elden deserved so much better than the hand he had been dealt, but he never complained. All he did was worry for his friends, worry that his leadership wouldn't be enough to bring them out of the darkness. This time Dorian would save him, no matter the cost.

Dorian sat up, pulled out his journal, and began writing everything he could think of pertaining to rifts and time magic. If he wasn’t going to be sleeping again, he might as well do something productive.

-

Slowly the landscape became rockier, huge rolling hills that left him gasping for breath, and of course the weather was turning foul. Dorian pressed on, cold and miserable as the heavy rain set in, preceded by a heavy fog. He thought his luck might be changing as it slowly began to clear and he quickened his pace. He scrambled up yet another rocky outcropping, wondering if he should search for a cave or some other shelter for the night, and then froze as he crested the top. 

There was a huge transparent wall, shimmering Fade-green in the distance. It spread out to the left and right as far as the eye could see, even up into the sky. The sun chose that moment to break through the clouds, clearing away the remaining fog and giving Dorian no doubt that the wall would go on forever. On the other side through the semi-transparent green was just… nothing. It ate up the land, advancing forward at a sluggish pace, and left nothing but darkness in its wake. The world was being consumed or perhaps absorbed by the Fade, and there was no stopping it. He could see demons there at the wall’s base even from this distance, prowling before it as they often did around rifts.

Dorian suddenly felt weak. His legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground, unable to do anything but stare at the Fade. This was it, then. There were no mages, there was no hope. Elden was going to die. They all were. 

Now that he was being honest with himself, because there was no use lying in the face of  _ that _ , Dorian wasn’t even sure he knew how to remove the spell locking Elden within the stasis. Without a better understanding of the Anchor and the magic it held, he couldn’t stop it from killing Elden, let alone dispel the stasis. Even if he somehow managed to free Elden, it would just mean a painful, possibly explosive death, most likely for both of them. 

But if Dorian couldn’t dispel it before the Fade arrived, then it would mean his death anyway. Hopefully that would be less painful, at least. But what if it didn’t kill them all? What if they still existed on the other side in some form? What if, long after Dorian had given up hope, the stasis eventually went away on its own, leaving Elden to die alone and in agony?

He wasn’t sure how long he knelt there, his mind slowly shutting down as every possibility ended in pain and death. He was out of ideas, out of options. There was no help here, no Vivienne and no mages. He really was on his own and there was nothing left for him to do. He didn’t have the energy to find shelter and simply huddled against a boulder, his exhausted mind feeling empty, without even the energy to despair.


	7. Chapter 7

The Fade. As a mage, Dorian had dedicated much of his life studying it, and yet, in the past few years of his life alone, he had become more acquainted with it than he had ever thought possible. Then of course there was his lovely visit to the wretched place in the flesh at Adamant. One really does go to interesting places at the Inquisitor’s side. So he felt fairly confident assuming he was back in the Fade as he looked around at the swirling green mist. Most notable was the feel of it that ghosted down the spine and left one shivering. Really, there was no mistaking it.

Why did it have to be so utterly disgusting? Why couldn’t it look like the lovely castle he’d encountered the first time? Not that he was particularly eager to relive his encounter with the desire demon, but he did appreciate the lack of cold and damp that seemed to creep into his very bones. Was it because the barrier between Fade and the waking world was breaking down that it looked as it did at Adamant? He had a panicked moment where he feared he had camped too close to the edge of the advancing Fade and it had consumed him in his sleep, but no, he was definitely sleeping.

Dorian sighed. He didn’t have the time or energy for this. He had hoped that his exhaustion would lead to a dreamless sleep, but it seemed he wouldn’t be so lucky. Before he could attempt to force himself to wake, he felt a presence nearby, huge and oppressive like the heaviness in the air before a storm. If whatever it was was going to attack, it wouldn’t do to run just yet and risk leading it back to the waking world. One more thing to deal with; one more thing tearing the world apart and threatening not only his life but Elden’s. 

“Yes, things are dark,” a surprisingly soft voice said, echoing around Dorian so he couldn’t tell which direction it had come from. “But it isn’t as hopeless as you think.”

Ah yes, of course. A demon was attempting to comfort him. Truly a sign that things were going to improve _ , _ he thought bitterly.

“Someone is always there to offer a hand when you need it the most.”

“What, like you perhaps?” Dorian asked. He couldn’t see the speaker, or much of anything here really; the swirling green mist obscured anything beyond a few feet in any given direction.

“If you like.” The voice was deep and calm, never rising above a soothing whisper, and the speaker was apparently oblivious to Dorian’s sarcasm.

“No thank you, I prefer not to make a habit of dealing with demons.”

“Wise policy,” the voice replied simply.

“Right,” Dorian said. “Glad we got that sorted then. Well, I should be on my way.”

“As you wish.”

“What, you aren’t going to try to stop me?” Dorian asked, suspicious now. 

“Why should I? I simply wish to help. If you don’t need or want it, that is of course up to you.” 

“No thank you, I’d rather not get possessed or murdered at the moment.” 

Great, what was its game? At least the desire demon had been transparent enough to try to kill him once he had rejected its offer. Dorian had no patience for more games. Surely it wasn’t going to simply let him go. That was a little too convenient and Dorian didn’t believe it for a moment. Still, might as well take advantage of the situation. The sooner he got back to the real world, to Elden, the better. He turned to leave when the voice spoke again.

“I do hope he is all right.”

“And here I thought we were going to avoid the whole manipulation and subterfuge,” Dorian sighed as he turned back, looking around again for the speaker.

“What? Oh, I do apologize. You thought of him and I couldn’t help but sense your concern. I can tell you care a great deal for him. If you wish to talk, I will of course be happy to listen.”

“My, aren’t you just full of generosity,” Dorian said, voice oozing sarcasm.

“I told you, I only wish to help. Talking costs you nothing. If speaking of him will bring some manner of comfort—“

“Oh, no you don’t,” Dorian snapped, furious that this demon would have the audacity to use Elden like this. “You leave him out of this!”

“Very well,” the demon replied, voice still even and infuriatingly calm. “I truly hope you are able to save him.”

That was quite enough of that. With an effort of will he forced himself to wake.

-

It was easy not to care, or at least pretend one didn’t and bury the ache and the pain far away where one didn’t have to think about it. If all else failed Dorian could always drown it in research or, the old-fashioned way, alcohol. That was how he got through life, yelling and drowning and pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn't. He couldn't do that now. He had let himself care too much, been shown how it should be when you were with people you cared for and now there was no going back. He didn't want to return to the person he had been, to the scraps of decency that had been thrown him on generous days, scrounging for something, anything, to cling to to survive the rest. 

He loved and was loved in return and now that he knew what it was like, how it was supposed to be, he couldn't let it go. He had been shown what all of this could be, should be, without the agony and fear and dancing around like he was living on hot coals. He didn't have to be the most interesting thing in the room and he didn't have to hide anything that might be less than perfection. He could just be and that was enough. And he had been shown that even he deserved it. He hadn't thought he did, but now he knew otherwise and it was all thanks to Elden. He would cling to it, that knowledge and that love, and he would keep going. He would get through this for all of them. He would save Elden and this would all just be a memory.

And when determination wasn’t enough of a motivator, there was always anger. 

When Dorian woke, furious from the demon’s prodding, his mind was already forming possible plans. He kept hitting one dead end after another and now he had a demon taunting him. He would not stand for this. He would not be defeated here and he certainly would _not_ lose Elden to all of this nonsense. First Dorian would discover everything there was to learn about the oncoming wall of Fade, or whatever it was, and then he would travel south. The mages were gone, either dead or simply out of his reach, but there was still one possibility left to him. Before all of this had started, back in Dorian’s own time, Vivienne had erected a temporary Circle to allow anyone in the area to congregate. 

The Circles had yet to be torn down or repurposed as colleges as Divine Victoria had planned, but many were still in disrepair or simply inoperable due to the mage uprising. Besides, since many of the mages would be coming directly from the Inquisition, at least those who chose not to remain and serve, it was advantageously located and served as a convenient place for the southern mages to regroup. If they had left in a hurry when all this began, it was possible they may not have taken everything with them. If there was anything to be found that could help Elden it would be there.

First order of business, however, was the Fade. Looking at it now, it was actually alarmingly close. It had been on the other side of a valley some distance away when he had gone to sleep but now it had devoured all of that and a few rolling hills were all that stood between it and Dorian. 

He approached cautiously to what felt like a safe enough distance from any prowling demons and began throwing magic at the impossibly huge wall. It reacted the same way rifts did, pulling the magic into itself greedily. All right then, how about a stone? He found a decently sized one and lobbed it. It vanished through without a sound, just as the rocks Sera often threw into rifts did. Well, this was fruitless. Still, it was fascinating and he tried lobbing a few more items of various sizes before admitting that, without any real equipment, there wasn’t much he could learn. He might as well get started on the arduous journey back south. 

-

It was infinitely frustrating traveling back south knowing he had wasted so much time. The days were becoming a blur now of miserable weather and tedious walking. He had always hated traveling but now on his own it was positively miserable. He occupied himself by wracking his mind for any scrap of knowledge or theorem he had ever learned that might give him an idea of where to even begin saving Elden. 

Unfortunately everything was theoretical at this point since even if he did come up with something he wouldn’t be able to test it until he was back at Elden’s side. The Anchor was a problem all on its own and Dorian decided it would be best for him to focus on getting himself and Elden back to their proper time. He could worry about the mark trying to kill Elden when there were other mages around to help him study it. 

He found sleeping difficult and instead spent his nights huddled beside his campfire filling his notebook with countless calculations and possibilities, trying to recreate the work he had done with Alexius. He was getting more and more desperate, crossing more and more possibilities off of his list. He was concentrating so hard he didn’t notice the presence slip into his mind as he wrote down more possible calculations.

_ No, that won’t work. _

“Get out of my mind,” Dorian sighed in annoyance. It was that blasted demon he had encountered while camped out at the edge of the world. Honestly, he was surprised he hadn’t heard from it sooner. Usually demons should only be able to reach him in dreams or times of great distress or weakness, but with the world falling apart he supposed this shouldn't be all that surprising. Just incredibly distracting. 

_ You don’t need to speak out loud, you know. _

“What can I say, I like the sound of my own voice,” Dorian replied, continuing to write down an equation.

_ Based on these calculations, you are attempting time travel, yes? _

“Perhaps,” Dorian sighed. He’d lost the trail of his thought entirely now. Not that that was a particularly bad thing. The demon was right, his calculations were all wrong. He just couldn’t remember what he and Alexius had done to stabilize the magic. Maker, he was having enough trouble focusing without a demon in his head.

_ Not a demon. And perhaps if you show me more of what you are attempting I could be of assistance. _

“Can’t you just read my mind?” Dorian asked. He was losing his patience. He did not appreciate having his thoughts spied upon. 

_ Only if you concentrate on them. _

Hmm, that was something at least. “All right then.”

The academic in Dorian was always looking for an opportunity to learn. He recalled memories working with Alexius,  but he let the memories play out quickly, trying not to focus too hard on any of them.

_ Whenever you’re ready to begin, _ the demon prompted in his mind after a moment.

Well, it could be lying of course, but it was also possible some of his memories were still his own. He’d have to be more careful in either case.

“No, I’ve changed my mind. I think I’d rather like you to leave.”

_ Very well _ .

And just like that it was gone. Dorian was thankful at least that it was obvious when the demon was around. He could feel it there like an itchy weight at the back of his mind, causing his hair to prickle and his magic to buzz. No doubt the demon would be annoying him constantly. Dorian sighed in irritation and tossed his notebook aside. His mind felt foggy from exhaustion. If he wasn’t getting anywhere with this, he might as well try to get some sleep. 

-

Dorian’s rations were gone. He was mainly relying on plants he could remember Elden pointing out as edible and he was just lucky that the lack of snow meant he had plenty to choose from. It wasn’t exactly filling which was why when he saw the ram he nearly sobbed in relief. He’d learned from his experiment with the nugs and made sure to keep his distance. He crouched low, making sure to remain as quiet as possible. As soon the ram stopped to graze he released his magic, sending a shard of ice slicing through it. 

With a victorious laugh, he leapt to his feet and ran over. Perhaps he had gone a bit overboard with the spell as the body seemed a bit frozen. He was used to putting a bit more power behind his spell than perhaps strictly necessary. That tended to happen when one was more concerned with demons and their frustrating habit of leaping up and attacking again even after the most precise of strikes. At least a fire should thaw it out properly.

Dorian had, however unwillingly, participated in the cleaning of animals they had caught so he knew how to harvest the meat from the ram, but it was exceptionally more unpleasant than the nug or the fish had been. Still, he at least succeeded in getting a decent-sized meal out of the ram. Unfortunately, once it had been cooked, he learned that ice was also not the best for hunting. The meat was dry and tough but really it tasted like heaven after everything else he had been foraging.

He was just finishing his meal when he heard movement nearby. There was low brush everywhere blocking his view. He hadn’t seen a soul in so long it hadn’t even occurred to him that someone may have heard the noise he had made with his magic. His staff was held at the ready by the time he made it to his feet, but he wasn’t fast enough. 

The disruption hit him hard. It was like an explosion had gone off beside him, his ears ringing as all of his senses went blind. His stomach turned and he thought he might be sick. He had experienced this enough to know not to reach for his magic immediately. A panicked mage reflexively trying to pull up magic that wasn’t there usually only made the symptoms worse and left them open for another attack. Instead, Dorian tried to focus, bringing his staff up to shield himself. Through the haze he spotted the templar charging him and was able to block in time. That was when he was struck from behind. 

It was silly, really. He was so used to having Elden there to watch his back he’d forgotten. As he fell to the ground he caught sight of a face he recognized. It was one of the men he had rescued from the red templars.  _ Vishante kaffas _ . He knew that was eventually going to come back to bite him. Then the world went dark.


End file.
